Felidae
by ktCatsbone
Summary: Felidae performed by the CATS cast. Rating will probably go up later Rated for mild Language, violence, blood and gore and sexuality
1. Intro

**Felidae: Staring CATS cast**

_Cast list and Plot summery_

After moving into a new neighborhood, a young tom is encountered by a series of murders. Assisted by a reluctant local, he gathers clues from a curious sect, the bodies themselves and his own nightmares to solve the crime.

Based off the 1994 movie, which was based off the 1989 novel by Afki Pirincci.

Francis: Mistofelees

Bluebeard: Rum Tum Tugger

Pascal: Skimbleshanks

Felicity: Victoria

Jesaja: Gus

Joker: Old Deuteronomy

Kong: Macavity

Nhozemptekh: Cassandra

Pretorius

Gustav

Gregor Mendel

Herman and Herman: Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer

Deep Purple: Alonzo

Pepeline: Jemima

Solitarie: Demeter

Sasha: Munkustrap

Zebold

Just pitching the idea to see if you like it. I will probably write it anyway, but I wanted to see if I could spike interest before hand.

Tell me what you think!


	2. Chapter 1: Homecoming gift

Note: I do not own CATS or Felidae

Chapter one: Homecoming Gift

This tale is not a pretty one. I'd recommend that any human with a weak stomach stop reading now.

Human? Yes, that is correct. I am not human. I am a cat. The name is Mistofelees. I am a black and white tuxedo tom and several weeks ago began the most exciting (and dangerous) adventure of my life.

It all began when my human, Gustav, moved for the sixth time. Even though he at one point studied ancient Egypt hieroglyphics, Gustav pays the bills by writing romance novels. When they don't sell, we move somewhere cheaper.

I personally hate to move. Getting acquainted to the new sights and smells of a new neighborhood, plus the fact that you never get to make any long lasting friendships. And as the neighborhoods have been getting poorer, the chance of having an intelligent conversation slipped too.

Anyway, the first view of our new house as I jumped out of the car was not reassuring. The house looked like something out of the eighteen hundreds. The paint was peeling, the wood was rotting and, for some reason, was three stories high. I mean it was just a house.

"Isn't it beautiful, Misto?" Gustav grinned, arms piled with suitcases as he stumbled towards the door.

I wrinkled my nose as I followed him, thinking beautiful was not the word I'd use. Dump, more likely.

Fumbling with the key, Gustav pushed open the door. I slunk inside, to be greeted by the shady, musty interior of the house. The dust was an inch thick on every piece of furniture. I swished my white tipped tail; this place would take some getting used to.

"You go explore the place, bud," Gustav grunted, dumping two of the suitcases onto the ground. "I'll get our stuff situated."

After he left the room, I started sniffing around. Most of the smells were just the typical odors of an ancient house, but suddenly a different odor hit me like a ton of bricks. It smelled like a veterinary clinic and a nuclear waste.

I followed the smell to the staircase. The smell was definitely coming from upstairs. I decided, however, to explore that later. Instead I headed for the kitchen.

"Hey Misto," Gustav smiled as I entered the room. "Your food is on the mat and your litter box is in the corner."

I showed my appreciation by purring and rubbing up against his leg. Then I hopped up onto the kitchen counter to peer out the open window. A small porch was visible, below which was a beautiful green-brown garden.

That was when I saw him. Sitting on the porch, was a rumpled black and gold main coon, squinting out into the yard. My first instinct was to hiss, to defend my turf, but then I realized that for the past few years, this house had probably been his turf. So I merely, hopped out of the window and sidled up next to him.

He didn't even glance over. I leaned over to look at him and gasped. His left paw was horribly deformed, lacking fur and much smaller than his others. I was just about to cough and try to get his attention, when I happened to spot out of the corner of my eye, the thing he was looking at.

Sprawled out on the lawn, next to a large oak tree, was the body of a cat, blood split all over the grass. Shocked, I leapt down and cautiously approached. The silver tabby was definitely dead, his eyes glassy and blank, throat slit deeply. My heart filled with sympathy, for there was nothing I could do.

"Must've been a can opener."

I jumped; the main coon had snuck up behind him and was sharpening his claws on the oak.

"Pardon me?" I asked.

"I said it must've been a can opener," he growled the tom, digging his claws in deeper. "It's just like them. Get a new ice pick and test it out on poor old Munkustrap instead of the ice."

Something clicked in my head.

"Oh, you mean a human?" I said.

"Yeah," he sniffed, yanking his claws out, "a stupid human, whose only useful skill is opening our dinner cans. And Munkustrap is the fourth one this month."

I was stunned.

"There have been other murders in this neighborhood?" I managed to gasp.

The mane coon chuckled and turned to me.

"You must be new to the neighborhood," he smirked. He glanced towards the house. "Taking over that dump are you? Interesting place. I go in there for a piss occasionally."

Ignoring this comment, I took a closer look at the body. There was a familiar odor on it, but that wasn't what interested me.

"A human didn't do this," I told him, "His throat has been shredded, not cut."

The mane coon took a closer look at the body. He gave a shrug and started to walk off. But then he stopped and barked, "Hey smarty-pants, what do they call you?"

Taken a back, I replied, "Mistofelees."

"Mistofelees," he mused, then snorted and slunk off.


	3. Chap 2: Nightmares and Raised Body Count

Chapter two: Nightmares and a Raised Body Count

After that unnerving encounter, I decided to explore the neighborhood. By the time I got home, it was dark. As I approached the front door, I noticed something I hadn't seen before. There was a rectangular space, not a dirty as the rest. It was as though a nameplate had been there once.

"_Maybe this place was once a doctor's office,"_ I thought, scratching at the door. _"That would explain the chemical smell."_

The door squeaked open.

"Welcome home Misto!" Gustav bent over and picked me up. I went limp in his arms, purring. He carried me into the bedroom and set me on the bed. "I know you've had a stressful day bud," Gustav smiled, setting up a record player, "so why don't you just sleep here and listen to Mahler's resurrection symphony."

I purred gratefully as the dark, yet soothing notes entered my ears. I don't know how some cats sleep without music, because I sure can't. Gustav scratched my ears and headed back to do some more work.

I had just drifted off, when I heard an odd whistling sound. Getting up, I hopped off the bed and padded into the hall. I peered around and I saw the whistling was coming from a luminous orb, hovering above my head. It started to move slowly, drifting away from me. I followed it as it sidled up the stairs.

I hesitated at the top as door I had somehow never noticed before creaked open. A strange yellow light shone through it. I was just thinking it might be a better idea to head back to bed, when the door dissolved before my eyes. Now intensely intrigued, I wandered inside the plain white room, only to have the entrance to the hall crumble away behind me. The crumbled pieces swirled up and shifted. I walked a few paces back as the pieces solidified to form a white coated, middle aged man, his face as black as night.

"Come here little kitty," the man crooned, pulling something out of his pocket. "Look what I've got for you."

Cautiously, I stretched my neck forward, sniffing. Then I purred happily. The man slipped the rhinestone collar around my neck. Suddenly the collar contracted, gripping my airways briefly shut. I gagged, astonished as the collar changed into a steel choke chain. The end of the chain was clutched in the white-coated man's hands. That was when the white room changed into a veterinary office. I kicked at the chain, trying to get it off. The man whipped the chain as though he was casting a fishing pole and slammed me into the ceiling. I seized a hold of the wood with my claws, terrified. The man started pulling the chain, trying to reel me in. I gripped the plank tightly, but then the room started falling apart around me, reveling pools of lava below. The man's eyes were suddenly visible, yellow and silted like a cat. I yowled in fear as he yanked me towards him, towards the pools of lava.

With a thunk, I hit the floor. Startled, I leapt to my feet, staring around. I was still in the bedroom and the symphony was only in the second movement.

"_It was only a dream,"_ I thought, panting for air. "_It was damn vivid for a dream."_

The door to the bedroom opened up. I hissed, but stopped when I saw the black and gold mane coon sidling into the room.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded, a touch too harshly. "You can't piss here anymore, I live here." The way he eyed me gave me another idea and I asked, "Has there been another killing?"

"How did you-" the mane coon stopped and scowled, "Yes, there's been another killing, but how did you know?"

"Educated guess," I smirked, stretching, "And here's another. Was the victim another tom?"

"Yeah," he growled, "This time it was Alonzo and he was only a little bit older than Munkustrap. Throat torn the same way, as though somebody was testing an ice pick."

"Tell me one thing," I asked, remembering the smell on the first victim, "Was Alonzo neutered?"

The mane coon smirked, "Nah, but he couldn't keep it up anymore."

"Hmm," I mused, walking around him, heading towards the bedroom door.

"Is that all you've got to say?" the mane coon asked.

I ignored him.

"You know you're starting to get on my nerves, wiseass," he growled, following me.

I headed back onto the porch, breathing in the cool night air.

"Where is Alonzo's corpse now," I asked, as the mane coon came up behind me. "Could you show me?"

"Sure," he grunted.

"Hey, what's your name?" I then added with a touch of relish, "Smartass."

"Rum Tum Tugger," the tom admitted, "And I've had more babes in my time then Henry the eight."


	4. Chapter 3: Scum and Clues

Chapter three: Scum and Clues

As I followed Rum Tum Tugger along the stone fences that separated the lawns, I wondered what had happened to him. His mangled paw looked awfully weak and gave him a slight limp, yet he carried himself with dignity. I was starting to secretly admire him, even though he acted like nothing mattered accepted his own happiness.

Suddenly, I heard a screechy laugh. Rum Tum Tugger stopped and glared ahead. Then I saw them, two orange, black, and white calico cats slinking towards them, grinning stupidly. The smell of garbage hung around them and the female had a string of filthy, dime store. fake pearls around her neck.

"_Oh lovely,"_ I thought, _"Time to meet the neighborhood scum bags"_

"Well look who it is," Rum Tum Tugger snorted, "Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer. Look, save me the lecture about how not having a reproductive system is the most rewarding thing in the world. I'll take your word for it."

The tom snarled and the queen looked almost forlorn.

"And I'll keep mine thank you very much," he added, causing another snarl from the tom.

"He's just jealous Jerrie," the queen, who I now knew was Rumpleteazer purred, rubbing the tom's shoulder.

"Lay off sis," the tom, Mungojerrie growled.

A deep cruel laugh echoed from a clump of bushes in the lawn next to us. I caught sight of an enormous dark orange and white striped cat with a scraggly red mane and huge long claws. His face was set with deep craggily scars.

"Macavity," Rum Tum Tugger glowered, "What are you doing hanging around with these scum?"

The huge cat, Macavity just laughed.

"If it isn't Rum Tum Tugger," he jeered, peering up at him. "You old puffball. I see you've been cruising the gay district for a change. That little kitten behind you sure is a cute one."

I didn't know how to respond to that.

"You gonna teach us some of the moves he taught you?" Macavity asked, grinning showing razor sharp teeth.

"No, he'd rather teach you them himself," Rum Tum Tugger smirked, "that is if you feel up to it."

Macavity came fully out of the bushes and I could fully appreciate the massive size of him. He laughed again, his eyes glaring straight ahead.

"I can see you're scratching for a fight," Rum Tum Tugger commented, "Alright, you got one."

Macavity sprung up on the wall, baring his fangs.

"Ooh, very scary," Rum Tum Tugger simpered, craning his neck to look back at me. "I can see you want to show off for my friend Mistofelees."

I shook my head frantically.

"So I'll just make one thing quite clear," he continued, glaring back at Macavity, "I won't just sit idly by and watch three take on one." He scraped his claws against the wall and snarled, "Bring it on asshole!"

Macavity's own thick claws shot out, growling as loud as a broken truck. I hissed and extended my own claws. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer hissed back, revealing rotting fangs.

Then Macavity burst into raucous laughter, his whole body quaking.

"Oh that is scary Tugger," he chortled, "I'm wetting myself with fright. And as for you, sweet thing," he continued looking over at me, "you can be sure we'll be meeting up in the not too distant future. And when we do you'd better run for the hills kitty. Until then . . ."

The huge cat jumped down into the opposite garden, followed by the calicos. Rum Tum Tugger snorted and scowled, continuing his way along the wall.

"Hey Tugger," I called to him.

"Yeah?" he grunted, apparently not caring that I'd shortened his name.

"Seems to me like you're back tracking a little," I told him.

"What makes you think that?" he asked.

"Well," I smirked, "you told them I'm your friend."

Tugger just grunted again.

* * *

We eventually arrived at the location of the most recent murder. It was a garage that smelled slightly musty. I stopped outside the door, sniffing at the pools of blood on the grass. Tugger shoved the door open and I poked my head inside. A thin trail of blood continued into the garage. The body of the black and white tom was sprawled out on the seat of a motorbike.

"You know I think I can tell you how the last moments of Alonzo's life panned out," I murmured.

"Really?" Tugger mused, sounding less than interested.

"Yes," I smiled, sniffing the ground by the motorbike. "He was attacked outside the garage. That's obvious by the blood spatter outside." I jumped up on the handlebars to get a look at the corpse. "Somehow, he dragged himself up here. Not bad with that wound."

The poor tom's throat was gapping, the bone visible. His eyes were already glassy. Inhaling, I caught the same scent on his corpse as the one on my lawn.

"Tugger, I thought you said Alonzo wasn't interested in sex," I called down.

"Only because he couldn't keep it up," Tugger scratched himself behind the ear, "So what?".

"But take a whiff," I told him. "Alonzo had gotten very excited before he was murdered."

I jumped down to the floor.

"The way I see it," I continued, "the thing connecting the two toms together is sex. It could be mating gone wrong, but more likely it is a stronger tom, eliminating the competition. Or else our murder has a general to fornication."

"In my day, we called it screwing," Tugger growled, "In it's still my opinion, that it's a god damn can opener."

"Be reasonable Tugger," I growled back. "A can opener didn't do this, this was done by teeth." I pawed the ground as I thought, then said, "If I'm going to solve this, I'll need to talk to as many cats as possible in this god forsaken neighborhood. And," I smirked, "you're, just the cat to help me Tugger."

Tugger scowled and headed for the exit. Then he stopped.

"Tell you what," he said, "I'm going to take you to see someone tomorrow who could help. He's a real brainiac."

He smirked as he squeezed out of the door.

"You're not the only smartass in the neighborhood, you know."


	5. Chapter 4: The Everlasting Sect

NOTE: I don't own CATS or Felidae: Just making sure everybody knows

Chapter four: The Everlasting Sect

When I got home, I managed to get a couple hours of sleep. But then I was awoken by a loud yowling. I sat up, twitching my ears towards the ceiling. The sound was definitely coming from the floor above me. I was surprised it hadn't woken my snoring pal, Gustav, sprawled out on the bed next to me.

I got up and peered out the bedroom door. The yowling was really freaking me out. Staring at the stairs, I knew I had no choice.

Padding up the stairs, I followed the yowling to a room reeking of the veterinary clinic and burning fur. I peeked through a crack in the door and held back a hiss of shock. The room was filled with cats of every color and breed, all surrounding a large machine, crackling with electricity. In the center of the electric current was a dark gray cat, yowling in pain as the electricity shot through his body.

I backed away quickly. Realizing I had to see more of what was going on, I headed up to the next floor of the house. Creeping into the second bathroom, I peered down through a hole in the ceiling at the scene unfolding. Let me tell you, it was not something out of The Aristocats.

A fat tom was sitting on a table next to the machine. "In the name of the brother Jellicle," he was chanting, "in the name of the holy Jellicle who sacrificed himself for our sakes and became god! Hear our suffering, hear our voices, hear our prayers! Accept our sacrifices!"

"Accept our sacrifices!" the mob of cats answered, staring blankly ahead as though in a trance.

"But the soul of the righteous Jellicle is in the hands of the lord!" the large tom proclaimed, "And he is at peace!"

"Hallelujah, he is at peace!" came the response.

The grey and brown cat pressed his paws down on a button and the voltage increased, crackling over the quivering bodies of two cats.

"The lord tested Jellicle and it was through this testing that he became the Everlasting Cat!" he bellowed, "Those who have confidence in him shall then discover the truth and those who have remained faithful shall dwell with him in love; for grace and mercy shall be bestowed upon the elect!"

Two cats, a tom and a queen, emerged from the crowd and walked towards the electric field. With a great leap, the tom sprung into the light and began convulsing and yowling as electricity flowed through his body.

The queen was right behind him, jumping into the electricity, her fur burning as the electricity made her spit and snarl. More cats followed them, throwing themselves into the current. When the large tom removed his paw from the button, they fell back to the floor, some completely still, others twitching and drooling.

"Hallelujah!" all of them chanted, "Hail to Jellicle, the Everlasting Cat!"

I was stunned. This was sheer butchery. Peering through the crowd of assembled cats, I made out the massive Macavity with Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer. And then I saw him; Tugger was there too, chanting along with the rest of them. Shocked, a peered still further in and some pieces of plaster crumbled beneath my paws. It fell right of head of the leader of the group. Starting, the cat peered up. I hopped out of sight, but it was too late.

"There is an intruder here," the brown and gray tom snarled. "Find him and bring him to me!"

I could hear cats rushing out of the room. I took their example and rushed out of the bathroom. I headed for the next available room, only to be dismayed that it contained no windows whatsoever. I suddenly spotted a plank that lead up to a hole that went, I presumed, to the attic. I was running towards it, when four toms rushed into the room.

"There he is!" one of them hissed, "Get him!"

I scrambled up the plank, kicking one of the toms clawing my flank. I felt the board splinter under my paws, as I squeezed through the hole. The cats tried to follow me, but the board broke under their weight.

"Come on! There's another way up!"

I heard them scamper away. I knew I should be trying to escape, but I had to stop and gape at the attic I was in. It looked like Doctor Frankenstein's laboratory. There were cracked test tubes, dusty operating lamps, medical equipments, sharp knifes, reports, microscopes and an over-turned lab table. Other machines and instruments I couldn't even guess what were for.

"_What on earth has been going on in this house?"_ I thought, my nose wrinkled in disgust at the acrid smell of the room.

I heard thumping against the trapdoor that lead into the attic. I swished my tail, craning my neck around the room and saw a narrow opening in the wall. The trapdoor burst open as I shoved myself into the opening. I had just managed to get my shoulders through when I felt claws and teeth digging into my hindquarters. Straining and grunting and landing a few kicks on the faces of my pursuers, I pushed myself out onto the roof of the house.

Immediately, I began sliding down the tiled roof. I frantically tried to grip to no avail and I could hear the other cats sliding down behind me. When I reached the gutter, I managed to seize on and start running, narrowly avoid one of my pursuers, who was having difficulty slowing down.

I dashed through the dead leaf debris around the roof, the others in hot pursuit. As I rounded the bend, I nearly collided headlong into another cat. Turning, I put all my strength into scrambling up the roof again. Upon reaching the spikes at the top, I leapt up and over them, sliding down the other side. But this time, I pitched over the side, managing to land on my feet on the porch. I leapt to avoid the crash of one of my clumsy pursuers and set off down the alley.

A scarred tom jumped in front of me, snarling. I took a sharp left and ran up a pipe. It was damp and slimy inside of it, but I plodded on, my white paws growing black. When I exited, I was in a construction sight. No time to rest though, the others were right behind me.

I scrambled up on a scaffold and onto a board. A ginger tom followed me and leapt on my back, claws aimed for my throat. I threw him off me and he hit the sandbag at the end of the board. The board fell and I went down. I fell right into a young spruce, gripping the bark tightly with my claws. Swinging myself up into the branches, I jumped up onto the roof of the nearest house and hid behind a window box.

"Spread out!" hissed a voice. "He can't be far!"

I could hear them slinking about on the nearby roofs. As they grew closer, I drew back. But I went back too far and the next thing I knew, I was falling, head over heels, through a window set in on the roof of this unfamiliar house.


	6. Chapter 5: A Blind Witness

Chapter Five: A Blind Witness

I dug my claws into the carpet of the room I'd fallen into, my ears twitching, tail thrashing. I saw the outlines of my pursuers walk right past where I'd fallen. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"You're new in the neighborhood, aren't you?" a slivery voice asked.

I turned. I appreciated the elegance of the room I was in, but it was the occupant that floored me. A beautiful snow-white queen with a pink rhinestone collar was sitting on a chair by a fireplace, staring into the flames.

"Yes," I responded, "that's right." I approached her slowly, my head bowed. "The name's Mistofelees."

"Friend or foe?"

The question surprised me, but I answered, "Friend, a friend forever."

"Hmm, a friend who fell," she mused, "suddenly out of the sky." She turned to me and licked her paw. She had unusual eyes, baby blue with unnaturally small pupils.

"Well not exactly," I told her, as she jumped down from her chair and walked past me, "Through the skylight, not from the sky. I was escaping from some lunatics from the Everlasting sect. The objected to me watching their ceremony."

The white queen sprung up on a ledge piled with pillows and stared out the window. "It sounds typical of them," she smiled, "Tell me, has gotten light out yet?"

I frowned.

"Well yes," I said, jumping up to join her, "But surely you can see that for yoursel-"

Then I understood. I looked into her beautiful blue eyes and knew she couldn't see me back.

"You're blind," I gasped.

"I'm not blind," she protested.

"Then wha-"

"I just can't see."

She left the ledge to sit in front of the fire, curling her long white tail underneath her.

"Do you ever go out?" I asked her.

"No," she admitted tearfully, "though not a day goes by in my life, not one day, that I don't wish I could see this world, evil and cruel though it is."

Deeply touched, I went over to her and laid my paw on top of hers.

"I'm sorry," I murmured. I didn't know what else to say.

"Why?" she asked me. "There are much worse things Mistofelees. We cats can get used to anything, except perhaps living in a dog kennel."

We both laughed. I stared at this remarkable queen and asked the question burning my tongue.

"Listen, have you always . . . well, you know-"

"Been blind?" she finished, licking her paw once more and rubbing her face. "Yes, since birth. But you know what? I see pictures, pictures in my mind."

Mystified, I asked, "What kind of pictures?"

"I see these people grouped around me," she began, "They're so big, tall and, somehow, bright. One of them bends over me. He smiles and something glistens in his hand, then terrible pain. Then I fall asleep."

Her last words were barely a whisper. She wiped a tear from her eye and turned away from me, heading back for the ledge.

"I don't think you were blind from birth," I explained, slowly approaching her again, "I'd say some human has done something terrible to you."

"But that can't be," she purred, "The human race is the kindest there is." She craned her neck to look at me. "Who else would give a worthless thing like me a home?"

These words saddened me, so I asked, "Can I change the subject and ask you a question . . . uh?" I faltered here.

She turned herself completely around and answered my unasked question.

"Victoria," she smiled.

I smiled back, even though she couldn't see it.

"Have you heard anything you'd describe as unusual in the last few weeks?" I questioned.

"Only the death cries," she informed me.

Starting, I exclaimed, "This means you're the first witness I've found to the killings!"

Victoria frowned as I jumped up next to her. "I don't see why you're so interested in this."

"Victoria, we're talking about murder," I explained, exaggerated.

"Murder?" she frowned again. "Oh, I'm sure you're wrong." She tilted her head. "I think it's more likely that it's sex that's just gone too far."

"And why do you think that?" I asked, circling around her.

"The death cry's always uttered by tom cats," she explained. "I could tell by their growls that they were excited. Somebody they knew is suddenly there and, although they are excited, they don't attack him."

"And did this someone speak to our excited, expectant toms?"

She nodded.

"Yes. I'm sorry I couldn't hear what he was saying to them. His tone of voice, though, there was a sense of urgency in his tone. A persuasive conviction; he was trying to tell them something important."

"What though?" I wondered. "So, what then?"

"And then," she shuddered, "then I'd hear those awful cries."

I sighed. So much information to process and still I needed more.

"Do you know anything about the Everlasting Sect?" I pressed on, circling around her to sit on the other side.

"Not much," she admitted, "Only that they pray to a dead martyr called Jellicle, a dead cat. They say he lived around here many years ago and was tortured by man all his life."

"How do you know that?" I asked.

Before she could answer, the skylight I'd fallen through twisted open. We both gasped and looked up.

"Why did you run off?" Tugger growled, poking his head in, "The others just wanted to talk."

Jumping down, I scowled up at Tugger.

"I'll bet they did with two thousand volts loosening my tongue!" I snapped, before turning to Victoria. "I'll be back soon, real soon," I promised, "but right now I need to get a couple of things straight."

Jumping up onto a dresser, I leapt out the skylight. Before I left, I looked back down at Victoria. She had crept into the patch of dim light from the skylight and was staring up out of those unseeing eyes, searching for me. I wished I could take her with me.


	7. Chapter 6: Information and a Loss

Chapter six: Information and a Loss

Later that morning, I went to have a talk with Tugger. We ended up talking in the broken kitchen sink; eating the leftover salmon Gustav had eaten for dinner. I dug my claws into the fish tail, blood dribbling down my chin as I chewed.

"You were really excited to get me involved in those murders Tugger," I growled, licking my lips, "and then you go and withhold really important information!"

Tugger grunted, "The sec'th don' men' mush. Lod ah Mumbo jumbo," through a mouthful of fish.

"Beg pardon?" I asked politely.

Tugger managed to swallow and grumbled, "The sect's nothing. A cheap thrill or two to see who's chicken and who's not. It's all bullshit anyway."

"That's not what I'd call it," I growled again.

Tugger gave me an odd look.

"The sect's been going on for quite a while," he told me, "Old Deuteronomy teaches the gospel of Jellicle, the Everlasting Cat as its high priest and over the years its grown in numbers. That's all."

"Old Deuteronomy?" I frowned. "I take it Old Deuteronomy is that master of ceremonies with all the charm of a viper?"

"Yeah, that's him," Tugger nodded, "But Mistofelees, I promise you, the whole things harmless. No ones even sure who Jellicle was or if he even existed. Now can we eat?"

"Yes, of course," I shrugged, as Tugger skewered another piece of fish with his claws. "And maybe later you can introduce me to this genius you were telling me about?"

Tugger didn't answer me. He just gushed, "For a can opener, this guy's a damn good cook."

* * *

"Is food all you think about?" I asked Tugger as we walked along the wall towards a beautiful house.

"I think," Tugger snapped, offended. "I read a book once."

"Oh did you?" I smirked, "A cook book?"

"Watch it pretty boy," he growled.

We came up the steps of the house. I was surprised the door was open. Walking in, the first thing I noticed were the two enormous portraits of two ancient Mayans, partially nude and going at it like rabbits. Besides that monstrosity, the room was quite nice with varnished wood floors and leather-backed chair.

"Nice place," I commented, inhaling the clean smell of the place, "Are we in the home of an art collector or a pimp?"

"I don't know," Tugger shrugged. "I think this guy's can opener is some kind of doctor or scientist. Biologist, parapsychology, . . ." He teetered off. "Come on, let's go find him."

We headed up a winding marble staircase. At the top, we were met with another portrait. This one was of a middle-aged man with white hair, dressed in black and thin glasses perched on his nose. His eyes held a certain curiosity about them, yet there was also something unnatural in them. Something that terrified me. The name underneath the portrait read _Gregor Johann Mendel_. Tugger arrived next to me and saw me staring at the portrait. However, he didn't say anything.

"Welcome."

We turned our heads. A gangly orange tabby was perched on a desk, tapping something into the keyboard of a computer. He hopped down, wincing slightly, and walked slowly towards us.

"I take it you enjoyed the tour of the place," he smiled.

"Old timer," Tugger jested, good-naturedly, "this brainiac is Mistofelees. And this even bigger brainiac is Skimbleshanks."

"Mistofelees," Skimbleshanks smiled, "Mistofelees. Yes, I think you and I are going to get along just fine. May I offer you two something to eat?"

"No thank you," I smiled back, "we've already eaten."

"Actually," Tugger piped up, giving me the evil eye, "I could go for something right about now."

"Ah, there is some fresh liver in my bowl," Skimbleshanks told him. Tugger trotted off back down the stairs.

Skimbleshanks hopped stiffly back up to the computer.

"I must say Skimbleshanks," I said, hopping up onto next to him, "I never thought I would see a cat typing on the computer."

"It has taken years of practice," Skimbleshanks smiled, "If you like I could teach you sometime."

"I would like that," I smiled, "but right now, what do you know about the murders."

Skimbleshanks nodded and started tapping out a word on the computer.

"Mistofelees," he turned to me, "Do you know the meaning of this word?"

I read the word he had written. Felidae.

"Could it be the biological name in which our family is classified?" I asked. "Cats as they are usually called?"

"Felidae," Skimbleshanks nodded. "Evolution has created an astounding number of creatures. Not one, however, deserves the respect and appreciation as the family Felidae."

With another click, a long list of names appeared on the screen.

"Whoa, what's all this?" I gasped.

"It is a detailed list of every inhabitant of the district," Skimbleshanks smiled proudly, "Name, age, race, sex, markings, lineage, personality traits, distinguishing features, state of health, etc. It started out as a simple fun project, but then I realized that it could be used to help solve the murders." With another click, five names were highlighted red.

"Do you know that all the victims-" I began.

"Were all randy males?" Skimbleshanks finished. "Yes and apart from that, there is no connection between them."

"I have an idea," I pondered, "Tell the computer to give us the breeds of our victims."

"Not a bad idea." Skimbleshanks taped the keys. After a whir of noise, the five names were up on the screen, organized like this:

**Name and ****Breed**

Admetus: European Shorthair

Growltiger: European Shorthair

Bill Bailey: European Shorthair

Munkustrap: European Shorthair

Alonzo: European Shorthair

"Well, there's an interesting fact," I said, smiling at my own brilliance. "Besides being male and horny, all our victims are European Shorthairs."

"No, not all," Skimbleshanks sighed, "I have yet to enter the sixth victim to our list."

"Sixth victim?" I gasped.

Skimbleshanks began typing. V-I-C-T-

"Victoria!" I cried out.

Skimbleshanks bowed his head solemnly.

"Yes," he whispered. "Victoria."

"But- but- that's impossible!" I realized I was screaming. "I was just talking to her a few hours ago!"

"Grizabella had just given me the news before you arrived," Skimbleshanks informed me, "She's a reliable source".

I wasn't listening. I took off, racing down the stairs and out the front door. I raced through the streets, praying some mistake had been made. I ran until I reached Victoria's house. I climbed up on the roof, looked through the skylight and nearly threw up.

Victoria was stretched out on the elegant rug, her head nearly completely severed from her body. Trails of flesh still strung the two pieces together. Her lovely white fur was completely scarlet. I was hyperventilating, tears threatening to flow, as I stared into Victoria's face, her poor eyes dark and lifeless.

* * *

"Her eyes were the worst," I told Tugger later, as we rested in a neighboring backyard. "Wide and staring, as thought the last thing she wished for, even at the moment of her death, was to see."

"It's sad Mistofelees," Tugger said, scratching his ear, "But life goes on."

I glared at him. "Did you find that cliché in the one and only book you've boasted about reading?" I snarled.

Tugger looked taken aback. "I was just trying to help," he apologized.

I dug my claws into the grass. "I swear, that the lowlife that killed Victoria is going to pay. You hear me you bastard!" I shouted, "You're going to pay!"

"Yeah, we'll get you shit head," Tugger growled.

I got to my feet and Tugger followed me.

"Forget what Skimbleshanks said," I sighed, "Victoria was killed because she knew too much."

"_Was it because she talked to me?"_ I thought. _"If so, it meant the murder was watching my every move. This wasn't just a psychopath. It was a calculating, cold-blooded killer!"_


	8. 7: Haunting Dreams Hunting Discoveries

Chapter seven: Haunting Dreams and Hunting Discoveries

_I was in a field that felt lumpy and slimy under my paws. Every now and then I stepped on something that crunched. With horror, I saw that I was standing in a field made entirely of the corpses of cats. I recognized many rotten faces, even of cats that I knew to be alive._

_Suddenly, the field began to shake. The corpses began to tear and crumble as the ground shifted. Then, with a dull explosion, a figure rose from the ground. It was Gregor Johann Mendel, the man from the painting in Skimbleshankses house. Corpses flew in all directions as Mendel stood towering over me, several stories high._

"_Mistofelees!" he called down to me, "The answer to the riddle is quite simple. It's in the word Felidae!" As he spoke, he flicked an enormous finger at a body on his shoulder and the head popped off. Blood sprinkled down like rainwater falling from a gutter. I hissed and spat, but found myself unable to move._

"_Evolution has created an astounding number of creatures," Mendel boomed, "Not one however deserves the respect and appreciation as the family Felidae." Clapping his enormous hands, two crosses appeared and began to extend tendrils of string. "Do not forget the message of Jellicle! Now up!"_

_With a flick of the wrist, the corpses were drawn up by their rotting arms and began twisting and dancing. I yowled in fear as the corpses surrounded me, their ghostly cries echoing in my head. The disgusting puppets were dripping their innards all around me, splashing into puddles of their own blood. I couldn't move without having drops of blood fall onto me._

"_Hybrid plant experiments!" Mendel laughed, "Why is it that these peas in a pod are exactly like peas in a pod?"_

_He kept laughing as he swung his puppets wildly. They began falling apart; scattering limbs and bones with flesh still attached everywhere. I was disgusted and terrified. With a final shriek, Mendel flung all the corpses into the air and the bodies tumbled to the ground with a sickening splat._

* * *

I sat up with a gasp, hearing nothing but the pattering of the rain outside.

"_Another dream,"_ I thought, moaning and scratching myself behind the ear.

Gustav was still sleeping, although it was already midday. I didn't feel much like disturbing him, so I left the bedroom and headed toward the basement. My mind was going a mile a minute. I knew my dreams had to mean something, but I couldn't think what. All great thinkers have different copping strategies when their brains can't relax. So, I had decided to what I always do when my brain aches. I went hunting.

The basement was dark and gloomy, a perfect rat habitat. Sniffing about, I caught a strong smell of rat and the chemical smell from the upper levels. Then I saw them, sitting behind some boxes, not in a care in the world. I started slinking forward, dragging my belly across the floor. I began salivating, the odor making me lash my tail in excitement.

The largest rat lifted its head up when my tail smacked the floor. I sprung, but missed and the rats scattered in all directions. I chased the big one around the basement, leaping up onto a table and scattering the contents everywhere.

The big rat stopped when he thought he was safe. That's when I sprung. I seized the rat by the neck and slammed it against the ground. The rat was dead in less than two seconds. I started digging my fangs into the rats' weak neck, the savory blood dribbling down my chin.

"This laboratory is my dream . . ."

The voice startled me. Dropping the rat, I looked around. When I knocked about the stuff on the table, I had reactivated a television that had appeared broken. The screen showed a laboratory full of cages.

"_This could be a clue!"_ I thought excitedly. I jumped up onto a chair and continued watching.


	9. Chapter 8: Dr Preterius's Experiments

Note: I do not own Felidae or CATS

Chapter eight: Dr. Preterius's Experiments

" . . . With the donations from the government, we are finally able to proceed with my experiments. This video diary will help explain the phenomena of my eventual success. I am Dr. Julius Preterius and my assistants are Zeibold and Grey."

_*Crackle, crackle*_

"My goal is to develop a bonding agent that will seal the edges of a wound together, thus speeding up the healing process. I am confident that this new mixture will work."

_*Crackle, crackle*_

"Our first mixture is a failure. We opened a wound on our feline test subject's head and applied the mixture. Instead of sealing the edges of the wound, the mixture bore right through the back of the skull and into the brain. I can only conclude that the mixture must be diluted further. The only upside to this failure is that I have bottle of Merlot to make me feel better."

_*Crackle, crackle*_

"It simply defies logic! Twelve different mixtures and all of them failures! The mixture has been diluted as much as possible and still it tears through the flesh of the test subjects. I don't what I have been doing wrong. Ugh, it seems that these days, Merlot is the only thing I can count on."

_*Crackle, crackle*_

"A strapping young stray has arrived at the laboratory today. He is a highly intelligent, well-built tom. Tomorrow, we shall see if mixture number thirteen will be a success when applied to this new tom."

_*Crackle, crackle*_

"A miracle! The mixture worked perfectly! This tom will be our laboratories mascot and we have christened him Jellicle. With his wonderful contribution, I know we are heading in the right direction."

_*Crackle, crackle*_

"After mixture number thirteen failed to work on other feline specimens, we have concluded that something in Jellicle's body must be resistant to the formula. We have extracted multiple samples of blood, bone marrow, hair, mucus and even parts of his brain to attempt to isolate this mysterious factor."

_*Crackle, crackle*_

"Damn government cut our funding by forty percent. We are rapidly running out of specimens, but we only need one, don't we Zeibold (hic)? We only need one."

_*Crackle, crackle*_

"Fine, leave Zeibold! I don't need your help! Me and Merlot will get the Nobel prize without you!"

_*Crackle, crackle*_

"Thanks to my ingenious breeding program, several of the queens have had kittens! Now I'll have a never ending supply of test subjects for the future!"

_*Crackle, crackle*_

"Oh Jellicle, I don't care about my glue anymore. Instead, I have a plan to create a new race of cats. A race of absolutely amazing cats!"

_*Crackle, crackle*_

"Talk to me Jellicle. Hee hee! Just think of that, if you could actually talk to me. Hee hee! How absurd!"

_*Crackle, crackle*_

"What's that Jellicle? You say I should open your cage and face you in hand-to-hand combat? (hic) I've got to save Jellicle?!"

_*Crackle, crackle*_

The screen went black.


	10. Chapter 9: Lost Love and Catacombs

NOTE: This is where the story goes up to M. This chapter is particularly gruesome.

Chapter nine: Lost Love and Catacombs

Sighing, I pressed my paw against the button on the television, switching it off.

"_So Jellicle really did exist,"_ I thought sadly, _"And it was in this house that he was tortured."_

"There you are Mistofelees!"

Startled, I turned around. Macavity had squeezed his way through the window and was standing on top of my rat.

"I told you I would meeting up with you in the not to distant future," he growled, picking up my rat and crushing it into the ground, "so here I am!"

I gritted my teeth in annoyance. I really was not in the mood for this.

"I'd love to stay and chat Macavity," I growled, jumping down from the chair, "but I have more important things to do."

Macavity laughed raucously.

"Well, you're just going to have to fit me into your busy schedule," he sneered, extending his claws and starting to circle me.

"Look," I tried to reason. "Can't we talk seriously for a moment?"

"Seriously?" Macavity jeered, laughing harder.

"I'll need your help to find the murderer who's killing the cats in this neighborhood." I was inventing rapidly.

"Murderer?" Macavity smirked. "You've already found him, kitten!"

"You?" I gasped. "Why you?"

"Well, let's just say they didn't show me respect!" he growled, starting to back me up against the wall of the basement.

I frowned and shook my head. "Your motive doesn't convince me," I told him.

"Oh, well maybe I need to convince you," Macavity snarled. I heard chuckling behind me. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer were on top of some boxes, grinning their dumb grins.

"Is this fair?" I frowned.

"Fair?" Macavity laughed, "Hell no!"

The siblings chuckled some more. Macavity tried to grab me, but I jumped out of his way. I ran over to a heating grate, only to find I couldn't budge it. Macavity, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer cornered me.

"Get him!" Macavity bellowed.

The twin calicos leapt at me, their claws grazing my back. Going too far, they crashed into the wall. I sped passed Macavity, though I had to stop to brush my tongue over the scratch on my back.

"That hurt!" I growled to taunt them, before speeding off.

Macavity was quick for a big tom, however, and grabbed me in his powerful jaws. I flailed wildly, but he was too strong. He started pressing down, to crush my windpipe, when one of my clawed back feet caught him in the lip. He let go with a roar of pain. With a great leap, I scrambled out the tiny basement window and into the pouring rain.

I shuddered; normally I wouldn't go out on a day like today, but when a vicious tom is on your tail, you have no choice. I took off running, hearing Macavity clawing his way out the window. Jumping up on the stone ledge, I began running through the neighboring yards. Macavity was not far behind me.

"You can't escape me!" Macavity roared.

"_I'm sure going to try!"_ I thought. Suddenly, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer were standing on the wall in front of me, teeth bared.

"Trapped pussy cat!" they leered.

I barreled into them and we all fell into a fountain in the yard below. I managed to get out first, shaking the water off my coat before starting to run again. I looked back just in time to see Macavity fall right on top of his cronies in the fountain. I couldn't help chuckling to myself as I pushed off a wheelbarrow to jump into the next lawn. Just as I started looking for a safe place to hide until the heat was off, I saw what was lying in front of my paws.

I quaked in horror and disgust. A beautiful black and gold queen with flecks of red in her coat was sprawled out in the damp grass. Her head was jutted upward, blood pooled around her from the gaping hole in her throat. But what really made me sick was her stomach. Her obviously pregnant belly had been torn open and the partially developed kitten fetuses were spilled on the ground in a puddle of blood and embryonic fluid.

"My god!" I whispered, bile rising in my throat and tears burning my eyes in sympathy for this poor stranger.

With a growl, Macavity's huge head popped over the wall, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer not far behind.

"Well guys, looks like he's run out of steam," Macavity leered. "That's what you get when you eat too much junk food."

Still in shock, I turned to him slowly, keeping the queen blocked with my body.

"Yes, I'm out of breath," I told him. "And it looks like I'm not the only one."

Macavity jumped down into yard, facing me.

"What are talking about-"?

Suddenly, Macavity caught sight of the queens' body. His anger was quickly replaced by a look of shock and despair.

"Demeter!" He wailed. "Oh my god Demeter, what have they done to you?"

Macavity shoved me aside and flung himself at the corpse.

"What have those heartless bastards done to you?" he cried. "My lovely, lovely Demeter!"

I was moved by this display of sorrow from this monster of a cat. He even had tears falling in rivers down his cheeks. I approached Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, who looked close to tears themselves.

"Who was she?" I asked them.

"Demeter was the bosses favorite queen," Mungojerrie explained.

"And you can bet that's his family spilled in the grass," Rumpleteazer sighed, her dull eyes tearful.

Macavity was still wailing, his face red from nuzzling his dead queen, Demeter. The twins and me bowed our heads in respect.

"Who did this?" Macavity's anger was rising again. "I'll kill them! I'll make dog food out of them! I'll rip his balls off and make him eat them! I'll- I'll-"

He was incapable of forming a sentence, breathing fast and hard. That just depressed the three of us further.

"What heartless bastard could do this?" Macavity asked us. "You?" he rounded on me, grabbing my throat in his claws. "No not you," he let me fall. "You couldn't have done it. You had no time. But then who did it? Who?"

A bush to at the far side of the garden suddenly rustled and not from the rain. Macavity turned towards it and snarled, baring his huge fangs. A cat came out of the bush, but it was impossible to even make out the color of his fur in the pouring rain.

"God help you!" Macavity roared. "I'll kill you for what you did to Demeter!"

The cat jumped up onto the wall and started limping off.

"No Macavity!" I blocked him with my body. "Maybe he didn't do it."

The cat trying to run off was very old. His brown coat was shabby and mostly grey. His face was deeply lined and his eyes set in deep. As he walked, he shook and quaked, barely managing to stay on the wall. Just as I'd managed to get a good look at him, he jumped down into the next lawn.

"Get out of my way!"

Macavity shoved me aside and scrambled up the next wall, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer right behind him. I followed them.

When all three of us were sitting on top of the wall, it was apparent that somehow the old cat had gotten away.

"Where could he have gone?" Macavity asked me.

I was surprised that he was asking my advice.

"I don't know," I shrugged.

"Just three blocks down and he'll hit the highway," Mungojerrie told his boss.

"That's where we'll catch him!" Rumpleteazer squealed.

"Yeah!" Macavity grinned, "See ya Misto!"

The huge cat ran into the next yard and sprinted off, his cronies not far behind.

"Bye!" I called; knowing my pursuit of them wouldn't result in anything. Breathing a huge sigh, I just sat on the wall, letting the rainwater drip through my fur and whiskers. I was exhausted, both physically and mentally.

That's when I saw him. The old cat was slinking out from under the wheelbarrow in the lawn bellow me. I crouched down low to watch him without him watching me. The old tom was limping towards a hole dug out next to the wall. Suddenly, I slipped due to the slippery wall and barely managed to cling on. The old cat looked up briefly, but then continued into the hole.

I hopped over the wall and into the lawn. Cautiously, I approached the hole, sniffing intently. The stench of the passage of time and death coated entrance. I poked my head and shoulders inside, to discover it was not just a hole, but a tunnel. The cobwebs coating the top of the tunnel had a newly made path in them. I crawled into the tunnel, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. But I had barely gone a few steps forward when the ground opened underneath me and I fell down.

I hissed and yowled and I went tumbling down farther and farther into the darkness. Finally, I hit the bottom and winced in pain. I coughed as I looked around. I had had just about enough of this new nightmare. It was bad enough that Demeter's murder had scrambled my theory of the murderer, but now I was in this godforsaken hellhole.

Suddenly I heard yowling and hissing behind me. I turned just in time to see Tugger sprawl on his face in front of me.

"I'm pleased to see you," I smirked at Tugger, "although I'm not happy to admit it."

"Ugh," Tugger moaned, shaking his head. "I'm getting too old for this bullshit."

"Shh. Not so loud!" I told him.

"Not so loud?" Tugger scowled. "With Macavity up there, wailing like a banshee? I saw Demeter's body and followed you over the wall. Anyway, where are we?"

"No idea," I shrugged.

I started heading farther into the tunnel. Tugger wandered along behind me, nose wrinkled in disgust. Then we reached a larger passageway, lined with crumbing skeletons of cats.

"Catacombs," I gasped.

"If that's some kind of sick joke . . ." Tugger growled.

I looked at him reproachfully, before continuing. Moonlight shone into the next and final part of the tunnel. This main chamber contained hundreds of thousands of bodies of cats, all in various stages of decomposition.

"Ugh," Tugger shuddered, clearly disgusted.

"Tugger, do you smell that?" I asked him, walking further inside.

"Yeah," he growled. "Disgusting."

"No," I shook my head. "The complete dominance of the death in this place from decades. These murders have been going on for years, not months."

"But who?" Tugger mused, starting at one of the skulls. "Someone had to drag all these bodies down here. And why aren't the corpses of Munkustrap, Alonzo, Demeter and Victoria down here?"

I heard a crumbling and looked to see one of the skeletons in pieces at Tugger's paws. He suddenly hissed ferociously. Turning back around, I found myself face to face with the old cat I'd followed down here. I jumped back and hissed as loud as I could.

"Do not attack the guardian of the dead," the old cat pleaded. "Although the guardian knows he must be punished for breaking the holy rule and leaving the temple."

"Do you always give your victims this crap before you kill them?" I asked politely.

The old tom seemed surprised and looked down, silent.

"What's your name?" Tugger inquired.

"They call me Gus," the old cat smiled, "The guardian of the dead."

"Are you the one who killed all these cats and then dragged them down here?" I asked.

"No," Gus shook his head. "The dead come to me."

"A real nut case if you ask me," Tugger growled.

Gus frowned and headed over to the scattered skeleton to pick up the pieces.

"Gus, where do you come from and how did you come to live in this place?" I asked.

Gus picked up the skull and placed it on top of the finished skeleton.

"There once was a land of darkness," he began. "I was born there and suffered for many years until the Prophet came. He set all of us free and defeated the darkness."

"What happened to the Prophet?" I asked.

"He was taken up to heaven," Gus said sadly. "Old Deuteronomy told everything to me."

"Old Deuteronomy?" I turned to Tugger. "The Leader of the Everlasting Sect?"

Tugger nodded.

"This was his home," Gus explained. "He brought me down here and we lived together for many years. But then came the day when Old Deuteronomy had to leave me to spread the word of the Prophet. The very next day I heard a disturbance at the entrance to the cave and it was there I was confronted by the body of a dead queen. Then I heard the voice of the Prophet calling to me from heaven."

"And what did the Prophet say?" I asked.

"He said that I had been chosen to be the guardian of the dead and to never view the world of light."

"Okay . . ." Tugger frowned.

"I have been serving the Prophet for years, taking the dead he sends to me. But I have not heard the voice of the Prophet for a long time now, nor has he sent the down the dead."

"So is that why you left this afternoon?" I asked him, "to find more bodies?"

Gus nodded.

"A few more questions," I continued. "The bodies that came down here. Were most of them excited toms?"

"Some," Gus admitted, "But others were horribly mutilated."

"Were any pregnant?" I was afraid of the answer.

"Yes," sighed Gus, who looked about to cry, "many."


	11. Ch10 Discussion Dreams with Love Between

Chapter ten: Discussions and Dreams with Love in Between

It took along time to climb back up out of the cave, after we had finished talking to Gus. Afterwards, as we headed for home in the gathering darkness of night, Tugger made it clear that the murders were not on his mind.

"Cod fillets baked," he was drooling, "Cod fillets boiled. Cod fillets fried with butter or raw with mayonnaise-"

"Can't you think of anything besides food?" I snapped at him. "We've got something much bigger on our plates."

Tugger just looked at me blankly.

"It's not just seven murders we're dealing with," I explained, "it's hundreds. These murders started years ago and I bet they began after the closing of a certain laboratory."

"No kidding?" Tugger yawned, scratching his neck.

"You made a very important observation down in that tunnel," I told him.

"No kidding?" Tugger smirked, trying to figure out what.

"Yes, why weren't the bodies of Munkustrap, Alonzo, Demeter and-" I took a deep breath, "Victoria down there with the others?"

"Because I think the murderer is as tired about the whole thing as I am." Tugger growled, sitting down in a lawn, obviously happy that it had stopped raining. "All I want is to go home. All I want is cod fillets."

"Oh poor Rum Tum Tugger," I snorted. "I'm tired, I'm hungry, I want cod fillets with butter and mayonnaise. Look, it's only Old Deuteronomy who knows anything about Jellicle, right?"

Tugger grunted. I took that as a yes.

"Why does it have to be this good preacher?" I mused. "What was it you said? It was just killing time? A bit of fun?"

"Yeah, something like that," Tugger nodded.

I went to sit down next to lame footed companion.

"Tugger, I'm beginning to think that this sect has a much higher purpose," I said. "As though they are preparing for the arrival of something we can't even begin to imagine."

"Something like a fresh piece of fish?"

* * *

I got home and tried to get some sleep, hopping my dreams would give me some more insight. I found myself walking on a carpet of clouds surrounded by ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics. I was heading toward a bright patch of light in the distance. When I finally got there, I found myself looking at several familiar faces. Tugger was there, along with Macavity, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer. Skimbleshanks was there and so were Munkustrap, Alonzo, Demeter and Victoria, all alive and smiling at me. And up on top of the great sphinx was a cat that shone like the sun. He turned to look at me, blinking his great dark blue eyes slowly.

"I've been searching for you!" I gasped.

"Naturally," the cat smiled. "Clever Mistofelees. I am the Prophet. I am the man. I am the beast. And I am also Felidae. Come with us Mistofelees."

"Come with us," the others chanted. "Come with us on our journey." Slowly, the cats began to fade away, eventually turning into orbs of light that sailed into a swirling vortex.

"Come with us Mistofelees," the great yellow cat implored. "Everything that was or ever will be has no meaning anymore. Come with us." He started fading too, to join the others.

"What will we find there?" I asked, realizing that I was sinking into the clouds and not caring.

"Everything we have lost, Mistofelees," the yellow cats voice proclaimed as I slipped under the cloud bed, still hearing the chanting of the others.

"**Mistofelees,"**

My eyes shot open. I had fallen asleep on top of Gustav's books and daylight was streaming in the open window. Someone was calling my name. I had never heard this voice before, but somehow I knew I had to get to it.

"Ooh, Mistofelees," the voice crooned again.

Intrigued, I climbed out the open window and sniffed about my backyard.

"Mistofelees," the singsong voice called.

I rounded the bend next to the garden shed. Before I had gotten my visitor completely into focus, I had started drooling.

A beautiful queen was rolling around in the grass, moaning in pleasure, calling me. She was unlike any queen I had ever seen before. Her coat was brown, sleek and shiny, with a reddish tint to it, making her glow like a ruby. But it was her eyes that were truly bewitching. They were dark brown and yet they had hints of blue in them, so they looked almost like two full moons. What was more, the overwhelming smell of her, it was enough to drive any tom wild.

All I could do was yowl incoherently. But she didn't care. Getting up, she moved a few feet over and I followed her like a kitten following its mother. She lay back down in the grass, writhing and mewing. I approached cautiously with my head bowed in submission, knowing the fickle moods of a female in heat. I sniffed her face and she sniffed mine. She gave a cautionary growl and I backed up a few steps. She gave a curt nod and I went round to her other side. We sniffed each other's faces again. She gave a seductive wink and another melodious meow.

She then raised her rear in the air and swished her long, thin, elegant tail to one side. Not wanting to miss my chance, I mounted her, grabbing her scruff in my teeth. She hissed lightly, but was powerless in the scruff hold. Anyway, we both knew she wanted this.

I tried not to loosen my grip on her scruff as I kept thrusting, our bodies moving together rhythmically. My queen growled, her claws extending as my movements became fast and hard. I practically sucked her neck as her slick walls tightened around me. Finally, I let go of her scruff and we both yowled in ecstasy and pain. Then, as fast as lightening, my queen lashed out at me with a screech of anger. I leapt out of reach and scrambled up onto the stone wall separating the backyard from the outside world. My beautiful queen relaxed on her back, sighing.

After giving myself a thorough cleaning, I turned my attention back to my seductive visitor.

"Where do you come from?" I asked her. "Who are you?"

"Who am I?" she repeated. "What a quaint, old-fashioned question to ask me." She lifted her leg so she could clean herself up. I was surprised at her refusal to answer.

"I'm new around here," she told me. "That's all you need to know. Fair lady is just as she appears."

I jumped down from the wall, but kept my distance all the same.

"You mean your breed is new?"

"Not new," she shook her head. "No it's old, or, to put it better, old and new. And different. Figure it out for yourself Mistofelees."

As if her word play wasn't difficult to follow already!

"How do you know my name?" I asked.

"A little bird in the tree told me," she mewed, writhing in the grass again.

"And what is your name," I persisted.

"My name means as little as my breed. It wouldn't mean anything to you," scratching her claws in the earth, she then said curtly, "Why are you wasting time with these questions when there's so much more we could be doing?" She lifted her rear again. "Come and get it baby!"

How could I refuse?

* * *

Tugger found me sleeping in the bathtub late that afternoon.

"Man! What an odor!" he grinned, "Looks like you got lucky."

Sitting up wearily, I yawned hugely.

"Yeah," I said blearily, "And I hope you know her, because I have a feeling she could help solve the case."

"What?" Tugger exclaimed. "The case? Solve it? Don't kid me Mistofelees! Judging by the way you look and smell, it's not the case you've been investigating all morning."

I moved slowly from the tub to the sink.

"Holly cow!" I moaned, rubbing my eyes. "I guess your right. I got sidetracked. So let's get back to work. Where is Old Deuteronomy now?"

"Probably at home, planning for his next bible class," Tugger grunted, licking his deformed paw.

"And where exactly does he live?" I asked.

"In a shop downtown," Tugger informed me. "His can opener sells sculptures and hand blown glass."

"Well, I'd like to pay Old Deuteronomy a visit, but first I want to talk to Skimbleshanks some more," I mused to myself. "What I need you to do Tugger is go and get Old Deuteronomy and tell him Skimbleshanks wants to talk to him. We'll both be waiting there."

"Wait, do you seriously think Old Deuteronomy is the killer?" Tugger frowned.

"Don't forget what Gus told us," I reminded him. "Old Deuteronomy is seriously mixed up in this, but I just don't want to scare him off. Oh, and by the way, the sidetrack this morning involved a beautiful queen of a breed I've never seen before. Sleek reddish brown fur with brown-blue eyes."

"Yeah, I know the type," Tugger growled.

"Are there lots like her?" I asked.

"Hell yeah," Tugger scowled. "That band of snobs has been taking over the neighborhood. The humans are passing them off as designer pets, but this time they've really screwed themselves."

"What's wrong with them?" I frowned.

"They're not like us," Tugger explained. "Somewhere during the breeding process they lost their domestication. They're wild, snooty, to put it in simpler terms-"

"What? Unfriendly?"

"Dangerous. I'd keep away from them if I were you."

Tugger hopped out the window and I followed him. He started heading off to Old Deuteronomy's place. I went towards Skimbleshankses house. A cold damp flake fell down and hit my nose.

"_Lovely,"_ I thought. It had started to snow.


	12. Chapter 11: Naive Youth and Elders

Note: I do not own CATS or Felidae

Chapter eleven: Naïve Youth and Elders

"Well done Mistofelees," Skimbleshanks smiled, "You've discovered more in the past few days than I have found in my lifetime."

The two of us were sitting in the living room on two different leather chairs. I had just finished recounting what I had discovered and the orange tabby was drinking up every word.

"Do you have the records of all the cats that have suddenly, for one reason of another, left the neighborhood?" I asked him.

Skimbleshanks nodded.

"Well, let's take a look and maybe we can figure out how many cats have disappeared without a logical explanation," I proposed. "And I wonder why the murderer is suddenly leaving victims out in the open?"

"Ah, excellent point Mistofelees," Skimbleshanks got up and gingerly hopped to the floor, "because it means that the murderer is making mistakes, which we could use to capture him."

"I hope so," I frowned, jumping down to join him, "but I just don't think a murderer as crafty as this would just start making mistakes."

"Then perhaps he is trying to send us a message."

"That's what I was thinking!" I exclaimed.

"Good, good," Skimbleshanks encouraged me, "but what is he trying to tell us?"

"He wants us to know that he has power over life and death-" I burst out, but Skimbleshanks cut me off.

"The average intelligence rate in this neighborhood is so low that the residents of this neighborhood couldn't possibly understand his subtitle signs."

I pondered this for a moment.

"Well," I began. "Supposing he just wants one special cat to interpret his message."

"Very good!" Skimbleshanks exclaimed.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because for the first time your thinking in terms of a mission," he told me. "Don't you see Mistofelees? The murderer wants his motives to be known, to be recognized. Nevertheless, the whole mess is peculiar. It is as though he is a puzzle and he is waiting for someone to come and solve it."

* * *

"You are a fast learner Mistofelees," Skimbleshanks praised as I tapped at the keyboard of the computer. "By the way, would you tell me a little more about this queen you had the pleasure of meeting this morning?"

"She's-" I hesitated, "she's a very unique queen."

"A product of Dr. Preterius's species engineering?" he asked me.

"Why not?" I shrugged.

"I'm not so sure," Skimbleshanks informed me. "You're forgetting about evolution. A new species can be created quite by chance you know."

"So you're saying that my queen and others like her are the products of natural selection?"

"Quite possible," he nodded. "You really are remarkable Mistofelees."

"Would you guys mind if I b-b-butt in?"

Tugger came in, shaking the remnants of snow out of his fur. He looked soaked through.

"How nice of you to join us Rum Tum Tugger," Skimbleshanks smiled. "My owner, Zeibold, left some fresh liver in my bowl, if you're interested."

"I love fresh liver," Tugger drooled.

"Get back to the point!" I growled.

Tugger scowled at me before saying, "Old Deuteronomy's gone. V-v-vamoosed."

"Gone?" I gasped. "What do you mean gone?"

"I mean he's not in his h-h-house," Tugger shiver, water still dripping though his whiskers. "I searched the place bottom to the top and there's no sign of him."

"So he's been murdered!" I exclaimed.

"Maybe not," Skimbleshanks objected. "Maybe he realized you were onto him and he ran."

"I really can't agree to that," I shook my head. "I just don't think that a maniac like that would just run-"

"Hold on, hold on," Skimbleshanks stopped me. "Tomorrow, we'll go through the records and see if we can locate any survivors from Dr. Preterius's lab and announce our findings to everybody in a few days. But for now, I need some sleep."

* * *

"You better watch yourself smartass," Tugger growled to me as we left Skimbleshankses house.

"What do you mean?" I frowned.

"I mean," Tugger explained, wadding through the thick snow, "that the murderer wouldn't be too happy if he knew you were sticking your snout so deep in his business. He might try and do something about you."

"Yeah," I nodded, "and Skimbleshanks too."

"Don't worry about him," Tugger tried to reassure me. "From what we know, our murderer only kills toms with balls and Skimbleshanks had his cut off years ago. Anyway, he's not going to be around much longer."

"Why's that?" I asked.

"He's got stomach cancer," Tugger sighed, heading towards his house. "They've given him six months. It's only recently that the news got around the neighborhood."

All I could do after hearing that was sit in the snow for a solid half hour.

* * *

Three days later, while Gustav was out doing lord knows what, Skimbleshanks, Tugger and I, gathered all the cats we could find and held a meeting in my basement. Cats of all colors, ages and genders were crammed into every possible inch of space. Skimbleshanks, Tugger and I were perched on a desk, waiting for all to arrive and we could discuss our findings.

"Friends," Skimbleshanks began when all were settled, "I am pleased that so many of you that have received our invitation have come."

"This had better be worth our while," Macavity called from the back of the room, "Or I'm gonna make you pay for me missing my favorite T.V. show!"

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer laughed raucously, joined by several others.

"Macavity, you idiot!" I spat. "Listen, don't you want to catch the creep that murdered Demeter, who you claimed you loved?"

Macavity's face fell and a shade of his previous hysteria was visible.

"Don't worry," he growled. "I'll get him. You see if I don't!"

"Do you really think the murderer is going to walk up to your front door and beg for forgiveness?" I asked, while Tugger chuckled. "Grow up Macavity!"

The huge cat bit his tongue and lowered his head.

"Sorry Mistofelees," he muttered. "I was only joking."

"Crack all the jokes you like," I told him. "The problem is the murderer doesn't have your sense of humor."

"Mistofelees and I have analyzed the data," Skimbleshanks took over. "And have determined that the murderer is responsible, not for the murder of seven, but of four hundred and fifty cats!"

There was a collective gasp and a series of frantic mutterings.

"Dear friends," Skimbleshanks continued over the noise. "We believe that the murders are connected to the hideous experiments of Dr. Julius Preterius and I know many of you were subjected to these. Although you may not remember now."

The noise increased significantly, but I saw Tugger glaring at his deformed paw.

"Quiet!"

Of all the cats to come to our rescue, who would have guessed it would be Macavity?

"Listen to him for gods sake! Haven't any of you ever wondered why some of us stumble around this neighborhood half-dead?"

Several cats in the crowd nodded in agreement to this. These cats looked similar to Tugger in certain aspects. Some lacked patches of fur, others had bodies' parts smaller than normal, and still others were missing body parts all together.

"So shut up!" Macavity snarled. "Let's see if they can present us with the murderer!"

"I'm sorry Macavity," I told him, "but I can't go that far as of now. Perhaps I can shed some light on the subject." Addressing the crowd in general, I continued, "I know many of you revere the Everlasting cat Jellicle, who died on the table of Dr. Preterius after suffering tortures we cannot imagine-"

"He didn't die!"

Everybody gasped! Looking into the crowd, I spotted my heckler. It was a tiny black, red and tan female kitten, looking up at me out of enormous innocent eyes.

"Would you tell us your name?" I asked her kindly.

"Th-they call me Jemima," she whimpered, obviously nervous after her out burst.

"Don't be afraid," I tried to coax her. "Please just tell us why you believe Jellicle is still alive."

"Great Grandfather told me," Jemima squealed.

"And who is your Great Grandfather?" I pressed on.

"Old Deuteronomy," she smiled proudly.

I looked at Skimbleshanks in wonderment, but he didn't respond in any way. Jemima looked around curiously before continuing.

"Great Grandfather said that in the end, the Everlasting Cat challenged the monster to a fight and killed him."

I was overwhelmed by this new piece of information.

"Look," I said, addressing the group again. "The only one who knows the whole truth about this is Old Deuteronomy. But Old Deuteronomy is dead-"

"No," Skimbleshanks interrupted me. "Not Dead. Old Deuteronomy has taken the name of the Everlasting Cat onto himself. Jellicle is dead, no one could survive those tortures."

Jemima frowned, but didn't speak up again.

"Old Deuteronomy lives on, however, and has taken flight. Thanks to Mistofelees, his sinister plan has been foiled!" Skimbleshanks rejoiced.

A great cheer rose up from the crowd. I said nothing. They had accepted what Skimbleshanks had said and I could do nothing to change their minds.


	13. Chapter 12: Revelations

Chapter twelve: Revelations

"Why are we back here?" Tugger whined, squeezing his way through the gate surrounding the shop where Old Deuteronomy lived. After the meeting was over, I had convinced him to show me the way. "I told you, I searched the place bottom to top. He's not there."

"Exactly," I nodded. "You were always on the ground. You couldn't have seen what was on top of all the shelves."

Continuing to growl under his breath, Tugger wandered over to a window that led into the basement. To our dismay, we found it boarded up.

"That's how I got in last time," he told me. "Now what do we do?"

"Well . . ." I mused, looking up at the enormous oak tree next to the house, "looks like we'll have to go in the hard way."

"With this paw, you've got to be joking," Tugger scowled at me.

"Fine, stay here."

I began dragging myself up the tree. When I was a kitten this would have been easy, but now, every new claw grip brought danger. I felt the bark splintering and hugged the tree for dear life. Tugger sat down below, looking both concerned and amused.

At last I reached the highest and sturdiest branch. I was confidently walking across it when I slipped on some snow. Tugger hissed in alarm, but I managed to grip the branches' underside. Hauling myself back up, I leapt onto the roof of the house. Feeling exceptionally proud, I padded over to the skylight, wiping the condensation away with my paw.

The room I was looking into must have been the storage room for items not on display. There were beautiful statues of fierce guard dogs and sly felines. The hand-blown glass was exceptionally exquisite, the intricate details catching the tiniest ray of sunlight, casting rainbows on the floor.

Then I saw him. Squatting on top of one of the shelves was Old Deuteronomy, a large splotch of dried blood coloring his neck. Crimson had pooled around his peacefully resting paws. He looked almost relaxed, unlike the other victims, with his eyes shut and his mouth calm. I realized, with a startling revelation that this hadn't been murder. It had been an execution and Old Deuteronomy hadn't even struggled.

"_What was so unbelievably important at stake that Old Deuteronomy was willing to sacrifice himself for it?"_ I wondered and then answered my own question. _"Jellicle! He must be alive!"_

* * *

Hours later, I was no closer to solving the mystery. I was slumped right next to Gustav, who was, in turn, slumped over his latest work. He had apparently attempted to go back to Egyptian writing and had exhausted himself trying.

"With Old Deuteronomy gone," Tugger said through a mouthful of pigeon he had dragged in with him, "that brings us back to square one."

"Not necessarily," I told him, "It's not over. It's just gotten extra complicated, like Egyptian Hieroglyphics."

Pawing through the book in front of me, I came across a Hieroglyphic with a beautiful Egyptian cat offering a bird to the pharaoh. The cat seemed familiar for some reason. I thought hard and a memory came drifting back to me. A lovely reddish brown queen with brown-blue eyes, mewing her bewitching song . . .

"Tugger, I've just had the craziest idea!" I exclaimed.

"Crazy?" Tugger mused. "A word that goes pretty well, with quite a few of your ideas."

Ignoring him, I headed over to the bookshelf where Gustav had a set of Webster's dictionaries.

"Genetics!" I leapt up at the book labeled "G" and knocked it to the ground. It skittered over to where Tugger was sitting. Jumping after it, I began pawing through the pages.

"Here it is!" I said excitedly, "Genetics. That heredity was established by the laws of nature was discovered by Gregor Johann Mendel through the course of crossbreeding plant experiments . . . Tugger, we're being bred back to our origins!"

"We're being what?" Tugger choked on his pigeon.

"My god, I must have been blind not to ask which queen the toms had been seduced by!" I growled, furious at myself. "All the clues in my dreams that I ignored. My original nightmare of the man with no face. Obviously, that was Preterius. And I didn't understand the significance of Victoria's words. _His tone of voice, though, there was a sense of urgency in his tone. A persuasive conviction; he was trying to tell them something of great important_. Ugh!" I slammed my head against the bookshelf in frustration.

"The murderer," I continued, turning back to Tugger, "isn't a psychopath. He wanted to give Munkustrap, Alonzo and the rest every opportunity to leave my sexy queen alone and the rest of her mysterious kind. And what was it she said? We are not new, we are old."

"You mean those snobby cats who are taking over the neighborhood?" Tugger asked in disgust.

"Exactly," I nodded. Going back up to the desk, shoved the open book of Hieroglyphics toward Tugger. "Here, take a look."

"What? Is that her?" Tugger asked, looking at the Egyptian cat.

"No, that's just a model," I told him. "For breeding, that will change us back to our original form." I went over to look at the dictionary again. "Experiments with plant hybrids . . ." I mused.

"_Experiments with plant hybrids!"_ the eerie voice from my dream echoed in my head. I could almost see the bodies of the cats flying through the air again.

"And who reverse Mendel and has a giant portrait of him in his house?" I asked, excited. "Who worked in Preterius's laboratory?"

"Who?" Tugger asked.

"Zeibold!" I answered triumphantly.

"Zeibold?" Tugger frowned. "Who the hell is Zeibold?"

"Fresh liver."

"Huh?"

"Fresh liver. Ring any bells?"

"Fresh liver, fresh liver . . ." he pondered.

"We don't have time for you to think!" I said, exasperatedly, "Come on, we have to get the murderer right now!"


	14. Chapter 13: Final Fight

NOTE: I do not own CATS or Felidae

Chapter thirteen: Final Fight

A car door slammed as Tugger and I approached the house. Zeibold's car zoomed past us as we crept along the sidewalk. I sniffed cautiously, but could not detect anything out of the ordinary.

"You go in here," I instructed Tugger as we arrived at the pet door. "I'll go directly into the study via the skylight."

"Gotcha," Tugger nodded, squeezing his way through the door.

I, meanwhile, scrambled up a nearby tree until I was high enough to be level with the skylight. I jumped, feeling the wind through my fur and landed on the narrow ledge by the window. Pushing it open, I hopped into the study and walked over to the computer.

My new skills paid off, for I knew how to use the mouse and the keyboard. But then came the roadblock; I didn't know the password.

"_Maybe 'Mendel'?"_ I thought, typing it in.

INCORECT.

"_Damn it!"_ I inwardly cursed. _"What about Preterius?"_ Click, click, click.

DING!

"_Yes!"_ I started scrolling through the list of names and quickly found one of the recently deceased toms.

**#287— Munkustrap**

**June 18, 1986**

**Four attempts to mate with Exotica.**

**Four attempts to dissuade were in vain.**

Another entry, for the deceased queen I'd discovered read,

**#355— Demeter**

**August 4, 1987**

**Impregnated by Macavity**

**If owners have any sense, they will dispose of her and the kittens.**

**If not, something must be done.**

Now I understood. The murderer had to be sure that the queens chosen to reestablish Felidae mated only with racially acceptable toms. Any tom that fell outside this category-

"Have you solved the puzzle yet?"

Sharply turning my head, I saw Skimbleshanks entering the room.

"Yes Jellicle," I responded as calmly as I could. "There are only a few gaps in the story, but I'm sure you can fill them in for me."

He smiled darkly.

"I'll tell you a story Mistofelees," Skimbleshanks began. "A story of men and animals."

I figured I should just be quiet and listen.

"Yes," he nodded, coming in to sit in the center of the carpet. "I am Jellicle, you guessed it right. I was in the laboratory. I did survive the unimaginable tortures of Dr. Preterius and when he eventually went mad, I spoke to him."

"You spoke to a human?" I exclaimed, outraged.

"Yes," Skimbleshanks growled. "Fascinated, he opened the door to my cage. I sprang up and sunk my fangs into his throat! Later, Zeibold took me in. It was through him that I began learning Mendel's theory of genetics. It occurred to me that could turn back history, to a time of wonder for our race. My only ally was Old Deuteronomy. He spread the word that a new age was dawning, while I handled the scientific aspects of the project. I started with a single pair, but soon the project grew."

He stared me directly in the eye as he continued, "I was forced to kill, Mistofelees, I had no choice, to maintain the purity this new generation of Felidae required."

He gave a huge sigh.

"I don't have much longer," Skimbleshanks moaned. "And that's why I involved you. You will be my successor, the leader of the wonderful Felidae."

"Yes," I blurted out. "But Old Deuteronomy, why did you kill him?"

"He would have told you everything and thus ruined my plan," Skimbleshanks explained. "And he agreed to it."

I shuddered, turning to glare at the glowing computer screen.

"So now I know it all," I murmured. "And what I know disgusts me!"

"Oh Mistofelees," Skimbleshanks sighed. "You go through your ordinary little days, living your ordinary little life and going home to dream your ordinary little dreams. But then I sent nightmares to you. Do you deny it?"

I didn't respond. Only my twitching tail conveyed my feelings.

"The world is an evil place," he smiled icily, "and the root of this evil is man. And the funny thing is that, now we are no different then him. "

"You've become like man!" I turned back to face him with a hiss. "You think like man, you act like man. So tell me, what is the role of lesser animals species in your oh-so-perfect world?"

"None at all," was the answer. "They're stupid. They are born victims to their fate."

"And what about the good people?" I went on with reckless abandon. "Skimbleshanks or Jellicle or whoever the hell you are-"

"No, no, no!" Skimbleshanks yelled hysterically, spit flying from his mouth. "There are no good people! They're all bad! Animals are the good human beings and human beings are bad animals!"

My anger rose even more at this fountain of nonsense spewing from his mouth. I was starting to breath heavily, but I fought to keep myself under control.

"I'll fight you with every ounce of strength I have!" I growled. "I'll start . . ." I swiveled back around, "by deleting this program listing your murders!" I began typing again.

"You can't imagine," Skimbleshanks spoke softly, "how deeply sorry I am for this Mistofelees."

I pressed the DELETE key just as I heard a soft thump behind me. I turned just in time to leap out of the way as Skimbleshanks flew through the air and struck the computer. It fell behind the desk with a crash and the sparks that flew from it set the curtains on fire.

Skimbleshanks and I faced each other on top of the desk, hissing and snarling. We both lashed out, claws and teeth slicing and tearing. I managed to take hold of his ear and pull hard. He yowled in pain, blood dripping from his torn ear. I leapt down from the desk, for I could feel the heat of the fire pressing on it, but Skimbleshanks scrambled after me and the fight continued on the floor.

I may have been younger and faster, but the old cat certainly had learned a lot during his lifetime. Skimbleshanks's claws dug deep into the white fur on my forehead as he attempted to bite my neck. But I had no intention of dying. I clawed him in the gut with my back paw, trying to get the upper hand. It was fairly clear, though, that we were evenly matched.

As we fought, the fire continued to spread, licking at the corners of the walls and devouring the books on the shelves. We were oblivious to it. My only concern was destroying this evil cat and in his mind, he was attempting to do the same.

I tore at him as though he was a freshly caught rat, clawing at his chest as I bit his cheeks and sensitive whiskers. Skimbleshanks managed to fasten around my front leg and pulled me down, tearing the tendon. I howled in pain, but tried to ignore it. Leaping up, I sprang on top of him and buried my claws into his orange fur, opening gashes on his back.

Eventually, we were both just circling each other, panting from exhaustion. The smoke, fatigue and our wounds were slowing us down. My forehead was bleeding, the red obscuring my sight and I was having difficulty putting weight on my injured front leg. Skimbleshanks's torn ear was flopping like a kite caught in the wind and his left side had a very deep cut sliced through it. In truth, we both had numerous scratches and bites all over and the heat was quite over bearing. I was drooling slightly, but Skimbleshanks was foaming at the mouth as he attempted to breath. But the fight was not over. I knew that and so did he.

Suddenly, Skimbleshanks let out another deep snarl. I froze in shock. And then, with a final roar, he leapt. It was a completely uncalculated leap. Just a desperate, last attempt to finish me off. So I leapt too. I leapt lower than him so I was directly beneath his chest. I stretched my blood stained paw out and tore my claws straight through his chest. My claws kept digging in deeper and farther as I soared through the air, shredding his body right down the middle. A flow of guts and blood poured out as he fell with a terrified yowl.

I landed as lightly as I could, trying not to put weight on my injured leg. Skimbleshanks fell behind me, cushioned by his own innards. He was somehow still breathing, sucking in the smoky air in weak shuddering gasps as he lay in the pool of blood and guts.

"Mistofelees," he gagged.

I looked at him blearily, the smoke really starting to effect me.

"There is so-so much darkness in this world," he moaned, his eyes weak and almost pitiful. "No light, only darkness. I have become evil, but c-could you believe, I was once . . . g-good . . ." The light in his eyes faded away and his twitching body became still.

I staggered out of the room and stumbled down the stairs, the fire singeing my fur as it chased after me. I coughed in a panic, my whole body searing with pain as I finally made it to the living room.

That's when I saw Tugger. He was sprawled out on his side, deep gashes dripping blood covering every part of his body. That was why he never arrived to help; Skimbleshanks had gotten to him first.

"Tugger," I moaned weakly. "No."

He moved slightly and moaned. Moving as quickly as my damaged body would allow, I grabbed Tugger's scruff and dragged him out of the burning house.

I only stopped when we were several yards away from the flame engulfed building. Tugger was shuddering and his body twitched feebly, his blood tinting the snow. I collapsed next to him, my lungs burning and my body searing with pain.

"He lost his innocence," I wheezed to Tugger, not knowing whether or not he could hear me. "Just as man-" I felt myself losing consciousness, "has lost his . . ."


	15. Epilogue

NOTE: A good portion of this chapter is completely fan made. Sorry for the wait

Epilogue

Well, that's my story. When firemen came to put out the fire, they found Tugger and I passed out in the snow. We were rushed to the vet and got bandaged and medicated. You should have heard the fuss Tugger put up, even though he was badly injured. I overheard the vet say he believed my wounds had been caused by some kind of wild animal. I had to agree with that.

Gustav came later that morning and was sobbing over me like a baby. I purred as loudly as I could, while he stroked my tail, which was basically the only part of my body not wounded. I was fit enough to go home about a week later. Tugger was released a few days before me, picked up by a plump, middle-aged woman who cuddled him in her thick arms. I swear I heard him purring.

After the chaos of those weeks, this neighborhood has managed to settle down quite nicely. Gustav has been spoiling me rotten and I have had to pace myself to avoid becoming poochy. Tugger hasn't changed a bit and still visits me to steal my leftovers.

But best of all, Cassandra, my beautiful queen, visits often too. She truly is the most bewitching cat. I am hoping that, the next time she's in heat, I'll be successful in fathering some kittens.

There's nothing else to say now except this. Farwell from Mistofelees, Tugger and all the other smartasses in the neighborhood. Keep solving the riddles in the world, even if the solutions are out of your reach. And don't give up the notion that one-day humans and animals can live together in harmony.

Maybe we all need to evolve, to grow up a little. Maybe we all need to evolve into . . . Felidae.


End file.
